Die Trying
by DerekHalesLittlePrincess
Summary: Just something that popped in my head. Kinda based in this season(3B). Stiles is Possessed and and Derek will do anything to get him back.


This is just something that popped into my head. It's wouldn't go away. So now here it is. Enjoy.

PS: posted this from my phone sooooooo if the spacing is weird, I'm really sorry. I'll fix ASAP. Also goes for grammar issues Ana's spelling. Just tell me and I'll fix ASAP! oh and leave reviews! Love hearing from y'all!

Nobody really realized he was the glue that held them all together till he was gone. Missing. Absent from the everyday struggle to stay alive that was their life. And when they did realize it, it was like the breathe had been ripped from their very being. He was the heart, the soul of their Pack. And he had been taken. Possessed. Used.

Used for destruction and murder. They knew that when he woke up, he would be broken. But they would be there for him. They would put him back together, one puzzle price at a time. They would be HIS glue, now. And they also knew that it wasn't IF they got Stiles back, because it was never an if. They WILL get the hyper, ADD, pain in the ass kid back. Or they would die trying. Or, so Derek decided. Because no one, no one, took Derek Hales pack.(Even though he would never admit the little brat was important to him.) Or Scott McCalls best friend. Or the sheriffs son. And with three of the strongest men in Beacon Hills out to save Stiles Stilinski, he was sure to come home. Because they would die trying.  
Stiles was so alone. So scared. Cold. Angry. Fear. Panic. All of the emotions swirled around him, mixed with the emotions of the thing inside him. But the strongest emotion swirling in the tornado inside of Stiles was fierce protection.  
This thing wanted to hurt his friends. It wanted them dead. To suffer. To watch them wallow in pain. Misery. Their own blood. And all he could do was scream and beat at the walls of his own mind. It had him buried so deep inside his head, it took all his will to just beat himself out of his prison for a moment, his eyes turning once again back to the beautiful whiskey shade.  
He let out a horrified scream when he saw the sight before him. Lydia. Beautiful, strong, smart. Now laying in a heap in the flood, bruises ringing her neck, and adorning her wrist. Blood trickled from her split lip, and when he touched her, she whimpered in pain. And Stiles never thought that Lydia being in pain would bring him so much hope. Hope that she wasn't dead. That he could fix this. Save her. Save them all. Stiles quickly bent, sliding his arms under her back and her knees and pulling her up, into his arms. He would not let this thing inside him hurt her. Never again.

He moved quickly through the darkness of the forest, his face in a mask of concentration. The thing was pushing, banging, fighting to get hold again. But now he was fighting back with every ounce of strength he had. He would at least get Lydia to the road. To somewhere safe. As Stiles broke through the trees, his eyes fell on Lydia's little car parked in the side of the road. He hurried his steps, and placed the red head on the back, settling his finger against her neck, feeling her pulse. As he was about to close the door, a weak whisper reached him. "Stiles. Don't leave me." His lips quivered. His control was beginning to slip. But he made a rash choice. He pulled open the front driver side door Nd got in, starting the car up. He'd take her to Derek. Derek could fix this. Derek fixes everything. With his teeth set, and sweat dripping down his face from the amount of will it was taking to stay in control, he broke every speed limit set on his way to the loft. He could here Lydia in the back, whispering his name over and over again like a mantra. And then he heard her say, "Stay with me. Don't let it win." And Stiles knew it was more for his sake than hers. She was scared for him, not her safety.

As he pulled into the loft parking lot, he slammed the car into park, and wrenched open his door, then Lydia's. he once again pulled her into his arms, and turned, stumbling to the doors. He made it in the building, and up the stared, but faulted just a few steps away. It was clawing, screaming, banging to get out. " No. No. You will not control me." He growled, managing to stumble those last few feet to the loft door before collapsed with a gasp. "No." He gasped, pushing back at the demon inside him. He was pushing so hard. His strength was slipping. Black dots lined his vision. No. He would not let him win. He pulled Lydia close to him, and stumbled and moved and finally. The door. "Derek" he whispered, his head pressed against the metal, as he slumped against in, Lydia still clutched to his chest as his eyes closed. Not even the demon could take over now. " Stiles?" A voice called and then the door was being thrown open, a shirtless Derek Hale standing in the doorway, staring down at two very dead looking teens. And if it weren't for their heartbeats, he would have thought them dead. "Scott!" The man roared, stooping to pick up the teen. They were home. Safe. They could fix this, they would fix him.


End file.
